Broken Pottery
by Weird Not Boring
Summary: Lily Evans thought that James Potter would always and forever be happy. When, one day, she catches him with tear streaks on his cheeks she feels that it is her civic duty to find out why. Lily James. Angsty. DH compatible, but no spoilers.
1. Broken Pottery

_Disclaimer: Please people, be smart. I'm not JK Rowling, that much is obvious._

_A/N: I'm not quite sure what this is. I don't really like angst, yet this is pretty angsty. I don't quite like it per se ... I don't know. Just tell me what you think, yeah? _

_The title is taken from one of the title threads in FA Park. When I heard it, it just kinda seemed to fit. The other one I was considering was: I've Had It With This Game._

_Oh, and if you're going to flame - at least leave me some way to contact you. Generally, I agree and want to know how you'd fix it. Okay?_

Broken Pottery

James Potter, Lily Evans knew, was always happy. When they had four foot essay assignments, when it rained for days on end - he was still happy. Always perpetually happy.

Even when she rejected his constant attempts to woo her, though he looked rejected for a bit, she knew it was all just part of his image - he was still happy, even then. Everyone knew that he only asked her out to annoy her - or to try and be funny. Life was a joke to him - so why shouldn't he always have the annoying grin on his face?

In fact, she had decided a while back, it would be weird if he wasn't happy. Then that would mean that his life wasn't just a joke - that he was actually serious about something - but no, that would be way too strange to ever happen.

So then when she was getting out of Charms late one day and James Potter, clutching a scrap of parchment, walked by, smile nowhere to be seen and instead replaced by what looked like tear-streaks on his cheeks, without so much as a "Looking good, Lily" Lily was a little more than confused.

"Potter," she said without thinking, turning to see him.

He didn't turn around, only straightened up a little, so Lily tried again: "Potter?" Nothing. "James?"

This time he turned. However, he had gotten farther down the hallway so Lily had to walk closer to him in order to talk normally without yelling.

"I-" she began, stepping forward and extending her hand a little as if to console him. When James flinched away a little, she stepped back and brought her hand up instead to chew nervously at her nails. She looked at the floor for a moment, grasping at words. "Are you okay?" She asked, looking up at his face. He was looking down at the floor too - then further down the hallway as if he would very much like to go that way - but then looked at her once she spoke.

"What are you doing, Evans?" He asked harshly soft.

After so long hearing "Lily", Lily drew back at the way he said her surname. She cowed into defensive, arms tucked tight into her chest. She expected he would add something to that, but when he didn't for a few moments, she said: "What do you mean?" soft and caring, as if not to frighten him. She untucked her arms from across her chest and brought them down to wring together near her stomach.

"Why do you care?" He scoffed, his voice sounding cruel and foreign to her ears. She backed up even further away, her mind sending up protective shields around her soul.

"I don't," she said, to protect herself. She was coming back into the game now - this sick game they played, addicting, alluring, impossible to win because no matter what they did they would both end up hurt.

James stared into her defiant eyes. He seemed to decide on something, because he nodded once then began to walk away again.

This - this was not how the game was played. He wasn't allowed to just walk away like that! "Potter," Lily yelled angrily at his retreating back. It echoed loudly down the hallways in both directions.

He turned around. "What?" He asked, sounding tired.

Lily now regretted her harsh tone. She walked to him once more. "I-" She began again, not knowing what to say. "Erm, as Head Girl it is my duty to–"

"Cut the BS, Lily!" He said, sounding angry once more. "It is not your duty! Have you forgotten that I'm Head Boy? I know the rules too!"

When she didn't respond, choosing instead to look down at her feet, he continued: "Why do you f-ing care?" Except he didn't say "f-ing". "What does it matter? You've won, okay? I'm done! I can't do this anymore. Just leave me alone." By the end of his tirade, he looked so beaten that Lily immediately felt sorry.

"I didn't mean to - I wasn't-" she stuttered, searching for the right words.

"Why don't you just come out and say it, Lily?" James asked, bearing down on her. "Why the need for the fake sympathy? Why the nice words? We both know what you think about me, so you better just bloody well say it!"

He was now so close to her - so close - she started to back up, but found she couldn't. All she could do was stare, terrified, up into his blazing hazel eyes. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. What came out of her mouth next, then, startled and surprised not only James, but her own ears as well. "I was wrong about you," she whispered so soft he could barely hear it- yet it whisped through his ears and into his brain and somehow it was registered, because he began to look much less threatening. "You - life isn't just a joke to you, is it? Something - something's happened. What's happened, James?" Her eyes went to the piece of parchment he still clutched in his left hand. "Is it a letter, that parchment in your hand? What does it say?"

James looked so taken aback by what she had said that Lily knew it would take him a moment to formulate a response - so she waited, staring deeply into his eyes. They seemed to soften a little - from stormy cloud-ridden seas to a kind of murky green peace - and she smiled. He looked for a moment as if he was going to smile back but then he frowned and his eyes seemed to turn upon her - casting her out once more into their choppy anger.

"Don't you dare turn this on me, Lily Evans," he said quick and sharp, like an arrow into her heart. She knew this would happen. She opened herself up to him - trying to help him - and instead he managed to hurt her.

"Turn what on you?" She asked, meeting his anger word for word. "I'm only trying to help!"

"Help yourself, you mean?" He snarled. "Face it, Evans, you're the only person you've ever tried to help."

"That's not true!" She protested angrily.

"Oh yeah?" He asked. She couldn't even bear to look into his eyes now - she chose a spot right over his shoulder instead. "What would happen after this meeting, Lily? Would we go back to normal? Pretend like this never happened?"

"I would never do that!" She said, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew she would. She frowned and James gave her a knowing look - he knew what she was thinking.

"Exactly. Good night, Evans."

"I don't care what you think!" Lily shouted at his retreating back, eager to try and retaliate. To try and keep him out here one more minute longer - because that one more minute may mean one more minute he had to reconsider and apologise.

James turned around, a cold detached look on his face. "You mean nothing to me," Lily said, purposely trying to hurt him now.

James shook his head then stared directly into her frightened eyes. "Then why are you trying to keep me out here, Lily? Why did you talk to me in the first place? If you really don't care - then why are you still here?" His voice had raised above normal talking voice and he paused, collecting himself."When you figure that out, please, let me know." He seemed to clutch at the piece of paper even harder in his hands as he turned around once more.

This time, however, Lily let him go. She, for once, was speechless.

_A/N: Yeah, I guess this is just me tired of seeing dopey James and perfect Lily always getting together. This is me trying to write realistically, I think. I'm not sure. Did it work?_

_P.S. James' letter says that one of his parents are dead from some disease that they suffered from for a long time. He's sad. _


	2. Treetops

_Disclaimer: JKR said no more Potter, yeah? Just the Scottish book. So why would she be writting fanfiction?_

_A/N: Please don't hate me._ _I'm feeling very vulnerable, now, as an author, and I don't really know why. Just please, don't hate me._

**Treetops**

Lily thought, for a brief second, that she was going crazy. She had to be going crazy - had to! - because why else would Potter be in her every thought? Why else did her mood seem to depend upon what little interaction they had every day? The thing that convinced her, though, that she truly was going crazy was that, for a brief moment, she actually contemplated taking the long trek up the stairs to the top of the Gryffindor tower, (on the boy's side) and actually, as if going up there wasn't bad enough, apologising to James Potter. (Thank goodness Marlene put an end to that.)

Because, she figured, the horrible feeling of depression and anxiety and _not-completeness_ she had been feeling lately directly correlated to The Incident in the Hallway. The Incident in the Hallway will forever be acknowledged with vagueness and capital letters, because whenever Lily thought about it, she got this strange queasy feeling in her stomach that felt something like _guilt_. So she didn't like to think about it.

In fact, even thinking about thinking about it, like she was now, gave her an unsettled feeling in her stomach and an urge somewhere in her brain to make things right again between her and Potter.

If, she supposed, you could ever call how things were before "right" in the first place.

Lily took to hiding out whenever she could, avoiding Potter, but then one day he found her in her tree.

* * *

"Why are you so afraid, Lily?" He asks, legs swinging carelessly back in forth in an unsurprisingly carefree manner. I feel the sudden urge to push him off, but I refrain because I know that would not look good on job applications - Azkaban time doesn't sound very nice, period.

Besides, he doesn't need any more reasons to hate me.

I thought I was safe in this tree. I found it back in second year - nice and secluded and far away from the Forbidden Forrest that it won't turn into a pixie when I'm not looking. I thought it was far enough from the castle so that no one could find me - but I guess I was wrong. But then, James Potter always seems able to find me.

"Afraid?" I say, trying to mimic his carefree attitude. "What makes you say that?"

"Lily, you're completely glued to that trunk there. It wouldn't hurt you to come towards the edge every now and then."

I have a feeling that there was some deeper meaning to his statement, but I'm simply too tired to figure out what it is.

"Fine," I say, scooting towards him a bit, but still holding onto the trunk.

James laughs at me. "I promise, Lily, I won't bite."

"It's not biting I'm afraid of," I say, but I scoot towards him a little more.

"Fine," he says, with an infuriating grin on his face. "I promise I won't push you off. See? Now you have nothing to be afraid of."

"What if I fall off on my own accord? That happens a lot to me."

"You fall out of trees a lot?"

"Well, no," I say reluctantly. "But that's because whenever I sit in a tree, I am firmly attached to the trunk. No worries, see?"

"So then you're afraid ... of yourself?" He asks infuriatatingly.

"No!" I say strongly.

"So if you're not afraid of me, and you're not afraid of yourself, than what are you afraid of? The tree?"

"No," I say, "I'm not afraid of anything. I am Gryffindor, you know."

"Oh yes, how could I have forgotten?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask, angry. I hate that he can insinuate stuff and I don't understand.

"Nothing, Lily. Don't overcomplicate this, alright?" He says, and, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he sounded a bit ... sad.

"James I wanted to–" I begin, but he cuts me off.

"Lily--"

"No, James," I insist. "Let me finish." I take a breath and grab onto the branch more firmly for support. "I just wanted to apologise. You know, for the night before. I ..." I trail off, hoping he'll cut me off.

He doesn't, so I am forced to continue.

"I was out of line, and I'm sorry. You were right I do–" I have trouble finishing this, but I continue: "I do care about you."

I glance over at him, hoping for some indication that I can stop talking, but he doesn't even look at me. He just stares off at the Quidditch pitch like he knows that I'll keep talking.

"That doesn't mean, that I want to date you or you know ... other stuff with you. Because you know, I don't. I just ... care about you, yeah? Like I care about my cat, or my wand, or something." I continue looking at him and at these words, he turns to me, cocking an eyebrow.

"Really?" He asks.

"Yes, definitely," I respond, going into rambling mode. "Now, don't read anything into this, but I think I must be nervous, at least, that is what my sweaty palms and racing heart seem to be screaming at me. Either that or I have some incurable disease that I will soon die of and everybody will be sad, I hope, at least I know Marlene might be and maybe Remus, and you might come, yeah, to my funeral?" I ask, but now I am the one who is not looking at him, looking at everything else but him. "Or maybe I'll just fall out of this tree now," I continue, "and I won't have time to get tested for the -itis that is affecting my brain and making me think these crazy thoughts about you _night and day_ and then on my grave it'll say "Fell From Tree" and Dumbledore will have to start saying 'it is forbidden to climb trees' in his opening speeches right after the forest bit and those speeches are already too long anyway, you know? And that would be just terrible, Oh! And you would be implicated as well, unless you saved me which you probably won't, you know, since I'm pretty sure you hate me and are just coming up in this tree to torture me, or something - but it would be very bad, you know, if you were implicated in my death because then you'd have to go to Azkaban and I've read that it really isn't a very nice place and it would make your mum sad, and I like your mum, from what I've seen of her, and she shouldn't be sad anymore what with your dad and all ... Oh! I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have, I just ... James, are you mad at me?"And finally I look at him and that little bugger is smirking at me.

"Are you quite finished?" He asks.

I can't speak anymore. All my words are tied up in my throat. All I can do is nod.

"Good," he says. "My turn."

I wait for him to continue, and am surprised that things aren't very awkward, at least not as awkward as they should be, what with our last ... confrontation and all. In fact, he's been very nice and normal to me so far.

"I don't want to talk about that night," he says, looking straight at me. I can't bear to look at his eyes, so I pick a spot on his cheek, kinda near his ear, where he has a brown freckle. "But I want to apologise, too. I was snappish."

"James--" I interrupt, but he cuts me off so I don't get to continue.

"My turn, remember?" He says, and I would think that he was angry again but for the slight turn of the corners of his lips, as if he wanted to smirk.

"My dad and I were close, you know. Very close, and so when he died ... it ... you came at a bad time. But Lily, please don't apologise again. I forgive you and I understand and I'm not mad at you and ... we can be friends again, yeah? So will you stop avoiding me? It is hard to be Head Boy without the help of the Head Girl."

He smiles and I smile back at him. "Sure thing, Potter."

After a couple seconds of comfortable silence, he jumps out of the tree - a good seven, eight feet - and holds his arms out. "Jump!" he says.

"Are you crazy?!" I laugh and say.

"Talking to yourself again, Evans?"

"You–" I begin, about to say something I would probably regret later.

"C'mon, Lily! Jump! Are you a Gryffindor or not?" He taunts.

At this, I glare at him before taking a deep breath, closing my eyes, and ... jumping.

"Uf!" He says, as I jump into his arms. "Merlin, Evans, lay off the pudding, yeah?"

I smack him on the arm. "Hate you."

"No you don't," he retorts. " You looooove me." He smiles and whispers: "It's okay, Lily I won't tell anyone."

I glare at him, of course. "Put me down."

"No, I don't think I will," He smiles, then begins walking up to the castle.

"James!" I squeal, kicking and flapping around.

He finally puts me down and we laugh and joke up to the castle, friends again.

I know that things are back to normal again, but well, not back to normal at the same time. While before he pursued me and I ignored him when I could and cooperated with him when I had to, I could feel a sort of friendship forming between the two of us now. And, while my heart seemed to tweak a little at the word _friendship_, I knew that it was for the best. For now, at least.

_A/N: Is this enough, or do I need to add a kissing scene?_


End file.
